


Everything would've been fine if you’d stayed away from the frickin box!

by Tangerine_Catnip



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alien Biology, Collars, Dialogue Heavy, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, M/M, Moving Tattoo(s), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Slavery, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 17:32:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10723977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tangerine_Catnip/pseuds/Tangerine_Catnip
Summary: Rhys makes a fatal mistake while preparing for Helios station’s semi-annual interdepartmental finger gun war.





	Everything would've been fine if you’d stayed away from the frickin box!

**Author's Note:**

> So, I found this in the very back of my Borderlands fanfic folder, where it was labelled as 'RP smut'. As the name implies, it began life as a roleplay between myself and [Lovova](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lovova). I've reformatted it and edited it but you should expect a little RP jankyness.
> 
> Bonus, I think this is literally the first Rhys/Jack thing I ever wrote so… Enjoy some unfrozen 2015-style Rhack smut?

Rhys was still hoping he would wake up. This had to be a bad dream. It had all the classic indicators, impossible situations, interacting with a famous person he spent a lot of time thinking about but knew he would never actually meet, and most of all, being completely helpless to do anything but watch the events unfolding around him.

Rhys surreptitiously moved his hand next to his elbow and pinched himself again. On the way there, his robotic fingers brushed over the bright yellow lines that ran like a megalopolis subway map across his skin. It was indicative of just how bad today had gotten that the alien force doing who-knew-what to his body was at the bottom of his list of things to worry about.

He couldn't even remember why he had been standing next to the Pandorian treasure box that was supposed to serve as the prize for Helios station's semi-annual interdepartmental finger gun war. One moment he had been trying to pump up the rest of the marketing team, then the box was on the floor and his whole body felt like it had caught on fire from the inside out.

He totally didn't cry; it was just so painful his eyes started to water. Afterwards, he must have passed out, because the next thing he remembered the Hyperion CEO, the one and only Handsome Jack, was standing over him.

Rhys was very aware that when Handsome Jack stood over someone, they didn't always wake back up. So, that was good news… but the bad news was that, whatever he had broken, it was worth a lot more than he was.

The cold gaze Jack had given him had frozen Rhys' heart so completely he still felt like it was thawing out. Then, before his eyes, Jack rebounded, his trademark energy and confidence drawing every scrap of attention in the room as he announced that there had been a change of plans. The new reward for the last department standing would be getting to keep the dumb-shit glowing kid as an office mascot.

But even that wasn't as unbelievable as what came next.

Everyone bought it.

He knew that Vaughn and Yevette would try their best to keep their friend out of the hands of a cruel master, and Vasquez's enthusiasm clearly sprung from a vaguely creepy grudge that had been gently simmering for years now, but everyone from RnD down to liaisons? He had no idea why they wanted any part of this.

Rhys hadn't been allowed to look in a mirror since the alien artifact had imprinted on him, but there was a chance that the tattoos were the missing ingredient he needed to go from a respectable 7 to a 10 on the hotness scale, because last time he checked, he wasn't exactly Helen of Troy.

And yet, here was a mini Trojan war being acted out in the hallways, offices, and boardrooms of Helios. Alliances were being created and broken in real time, department based nations struck out on daring ventures or went down in a blaze of glory. All while he sat safely away from the action locked in a room with, if he was still rolling with the metaphor, Prince Paris.

Jack's gaze darted between the fifty or so monitors arranged in front of them, each displaying a different camera feed and a different angle on the imaginary carnage.

"Y'know this would be so much better if they had real guns. It's too bad some of them are working on shit I actually care about. That, and the rehiring would be a nightmare."

Jack leant back on the sofa, resting his shoulders against the bright yellow upholstery. Rhys was sitting beside him, though he looked far less imposing. Most of his clothing had barely survived whatever the artefact had done to him.

The whole of his left pant leg and most of the left side of his shirt had burned away, revealing more yellow lines stretching from his feet up to his neck and cheek. The lines only seemed to be on the left side of his body, but he would've needed to take off the rest of his burned clothing to know for sure.

Rhys had been trying to think of something to say to Jack for the past half hour. They were the only ones not taking part in the fighting. Jack had brought Rhys up to his penthouses so that someone else could see how much fun he was having. Until the last man fell, they would be sitting together.

Jack didn't seem to care that Rhys was silent though, he was far too caught up in watching this madness unfold before him.

Jack found that wars tended to show the best in a team if they were winning, and the worst if they were losing, and while he couldn't think of an _exact_ reason why he would need to know how all the pencil-pushing deck-jockeys he employed would strategize in a small unit battle situation, he was certain it would be useful at some point or another.

As it turned out, most of them would die in this situation. Quickly and stupidly. The only reason this war hadn't become a massacre was that most of his departments were too stupid to realise all the holes and openings their enemies were leaving them, creating this beautiful, circle-jerk of inefficiency and idiocy that was just...wildly entertaining to pick at.

Besides all that, it was fun to see all the little moments of actual ingenuity that were occurring. For instance, the administration department had been clever in rejecting an alliance with the accounting team in favour of the Janitorial staff, and if their movements were any indication, the Human Relations Department was about to have a seriously bad time because of it.

The prize, what was his name, Reece? Reece had been mostly quiet since the whole 'mutation' incident, in that sort of 'sunken terror as they try to anticipate the truly unexpected' way that people who are probably dying can sometimes. So, he nearly jumped out of his skin when Recce suddenly spoke up.

"Hey, uh, Handsome Jack, sir. S-stupid question, but it's kind of relevant to me right now. What exactly did you mean when you said I'd be a mascot?"

What Rhys really wanted to say, was that human slavery wasn't legal in this solar system, but that might sound like he was disagreeing and no one disagreed with Handsome Jack.

"Geeze, kiddo, give a guy a warning, why don't ya? I thought you'd lost your voice after all that screaming you had done earlier. Speaking of, way to ruin my broadcast asshole, thanks for that."

Jack scratched behind his ear and laughed, "Eh, actually I'm full of shit, I loved that. You know we were recording when that happened? Hold on, hold on, check this out."

Jack took the remote and pointed at one of the screens, bringing up some saved files and clicking into his bookmarks. A video popped up of the marketing kid. He was clearly not looking where he was going while trying to give some inspirational speech or another to his department. He hit the box ass-first and toppled over Just as Jack was presenting it.

Then the screaming and the big yellow glowing lights and-

"Hahaha, oh man, look, look at your face!" Jack said, throwing an arm around Reece. He pointed, freezing the video just as Reese on the screen was looking down at himself trying to brush away the glow on his skin, as if that was an actual thing he could do, looking horrified. "Oh man, that face! Fucking classic, I just, wow..." Jack laughed some more before saying, "Ha, I'm sorry kiddo, what was it you were saying, I completely missed it?"

Jack pressed a button on the remote and the recording started from the beginning again. Rhys felt his mouth run dry. Looking at it from a third person point of view he really did look like an idiot. He had to stop himself from yelling at past-Rhys as he watched him keep taking slow steps backwards, closer and closer to danger.

He winced as the recorded Rhys started screaming again, the markings on his skin seemed to burn with sympathy pain as he watched it happen all over again. He pulled his legs up onto the sofa and his arms wrapped around his tummy. Taking up the defensive posture without really realising it.

He forced a smile, years of Hyperion employment had made him good at it.

"Yeah, that's… really funny," He replied.

Rhys watched himself collapse to the floor, writhing and twitching until his body fell limp.

The recorded image of Jack stepped over to him and kicked him in the side. Current Rhys' hand dropped to the spot, and he pressed on it lightly, feeling the bruise forming there. With all the other places aching, he hadn't even noticed.

A buzz of activity as someone verified he was still alive, and someone else scanned him to make sure he wasn't radioactive or contagious. Now the interesting part was over, Jack tapped a button and went back to the live feed.

Rhys thought about telling Jack he hadn't said anything important, his confidence was mostly used up after the first time he had dared to speak up. But he did have Jack's attention now…

"Well, uh… Since I haven't died yet. I was thinking about what happens next… and I asked what you meant when you said I would be a mascot? Um… and now that I think about it, I guess I'm also trying to figure out why everyone and their grandmother suddenly wants me, and what they expect me to do if they win?"

Jack picked some of his lunch out of his teeth as he leant back into the couch, his arm still wrapped around the prize. "Tch, easy. They want you because I offered you. People are simple, kid. They don't know shit about anything, so they'll believe any crap that's fed to them. Like art. You ever see an art piece that's just, like, squiggly lines and shit? Just a big 'ol pile of crap? But the damn thing is being sold for a couple hundred grand, easy? You think it's because the resources needed to make that artistic piece of shit cost that much, or because it's truly unique? Fuck no! It's because someone higher on the pecking order then everyone else said; 'yep, this piece of shit is gold' and everyone around them just assumed that there must be a reason the shits gold, so they go ahead and treat shit like gold."

Jack laughed. "That metaphor is extra funny, by the way, because gold is less valuable then shit, really. But people would die for gold and walk around shit on the street. Isn't that funny? God, people are some stupid fucking sheep, ha...eh."

The taste of lunch giving him an appetite, Jack pressed at the intercom on the stand next to the couch, saying into it, "May. Hey, May, have the galley send up whatever they got cooking for dinner… And some chips. And wine. Kid, you want something, you hungry?" Jack asked, continuing without listening, "Bring enough for two people. Me and the mutant. May... Hey, May? Oh shit, yeah, she's probably with her team. Fuck. I shouldn't have let the PA's have their own department. Fuck if they're gonna win anyway. Ah well, I guess I did give her permission to play, it's my own fault if we starve to death. Sorry about that, kitten." Jack said, turning back to the prize, staring at him for a moment.

"Oh!" Jack said, "-You're asking what the fucks gonna happen to you, aren't ya? Well, hell, why wouldn't you be, I'd be curious if it were me. Not that it ever would be me. Cuz I'm awesome, and you're just you. Well, kid, once the Legal department is done losing this damn war to-," Jack peered at the screens, "the Supply Department, ouch, that looks like it hurts. Anyway, once they're free, I'm gonna appeal to intergalactic courts that, due to your mutation, you no longer fall under the Higher Beings Freedom Act and get you declared a creature, annnnnd then I guess whichever department wins you is gonna take care of you. Like a company pet. Until you die, which my guys in the labs will find out once they're done, whenever that might be."

"Wh-what?"

"Eh, don't make that face, sweetums, Hyperion takes care of their mistakes against humanity. Jack's gonna make sure you're taken care of right until the end," Jack assured, "And hey, maybe the lab boys will find out you're _not_ gonna degrade into a pile of painful, mutated death! That's a possibility! Not likely, but possible. Doesn't that sound good? Man, I'm hungry. Maybe I can call the Culinary Department directly."

Indignation won out over fear, and Rhys jerked backwards and away from Jack, pulling out from under his arm and turning to face his CEO.

"But we don't even know for sure if this is permanent?! It could still wash out in the shower or something!" Okay, that sounded stupid even to him. But then again, Rhys didn't know anything about Pandora and its freaky alien artefacts. "I feel exactly the same as I did before this. It's just a weird skin condition. I'm still fine, it's still me. This could just be how Eridians got tattoos. I'm not…"

The markings on Rhys' skin began to glow as his heart raced in his chest. It was kind of ironic that they turned out yellow. The colour of his robotic arm, the colour of everything Hyperion owned. -And starting now, that included him.

He knew how cruel some of the staff in this space station could be. If they could do anything they liked to him consequence free, he might end up wishing he had died right after he knocked over the case.

"I don't want to be anyone's pet."

Jack shrugged, "Dude, not to blow your bubble, but you were already an employee. Honestly, I doubt much is going to change for you. You're all basically kept pets in my eyes." Jack stood up, stretching out his arms above his head, feeling a comfortable 'snap, snap, snap' in his spine, "The only difference now is that all the rest of the poor hapless ducklings will view you as one too."

Jack looked back at Reese, really looking at him. Well... that was interesting. "You realise you're glowing more than normal, right?" Jack asked, walking over and examining the guy, leaning in close to look at his collarbone area, which seemed to be glowing brightest right then, "I mean normal is relative right now since you've only been like this for, what, a couple of hours? But you are definitely shimmering, or something like that. Maybe it's something to do with the absolute indignation and horror you just felt? Maybe it's from blood rush? Hmmmm."

"Wait… W-what?"

"Okay," Jack said, shooting out his arm, "Let's test this."

Grasping Reese's shoulder, Jack pushed him into the couch. Jack leant in and breathed hotly into the prize's neck.

Rhys let out a squeak as he was pushed down. He had been trying to see what Jack was talking about, but forgot it as soon as he felt the weight holding him down. Jack's every movement was purposeful and forceful, without any of the usual hesitation or courtesy.

In hindsight, Rhys realised his mistake had been forgetting who he was talking to. This was Handsome Jack, The Handsome Jack, as in capital **The**. -And he was close to him right now, really close. The sensitive nerve endings in his neck sent the feedback through his nervous system and cyber augmentations. A tiny popup in the corner of his vision warned him of a sudden jump in his heart rate and rising levels of adrenaline.

Then it was over, and Rhys found himself staring blankly up at Jack. His cheeks were bright red, and he was sitting unnaturally still as his brain struggled to catch up with current events.

The markings on his skin were nowhere near as reserved. There were three lines on the left half of his neck and the one closest to where Jack's lips had been had gone utterly incandescent. Then the lines started to shift. It looked like the yellow spots were crawling across his skin, though it was just an optical illusion created by individual portions of his skin switching from glowing to not glowing.

The three strikes of yellow moved until they were wrapped end to end around Rhys' neck, to give the effect of a glowing collar around his neck. Rhys couldn't see them, but he could feel them moving. He touched his neck once they stopped. A mixture of shock and fear joining the blush on his face.

"I… I didn't tell them to do that…"

Rhys looked up desperately at Jack, even though he knew he wasn't going to get an explanation. He was just so used to looking to his superiors for answers.

"Heh, that's actually pretty fucking cool." Jack grinned, watching the thin lines as they created a little light show. Taking the same remote he had used for the screen, Jack pointed it at the overhead lights, and off they went. The screens in the background shone like little twitching flashlights, but Jack ignored that.

The glowing shimmer on Reese's skin was quite dazzling. Even the bits of him that didn't have the lines had a little shimmer, a small memento of the translucent dust that had covered him. The light of his blue mechanical eye (expensive Hyperion technology, he must have taken out a loan the size of a small countries' economy to get it) was a lovely contrast to that startling, yellow glow. Jack loved that colour. Everything should be bright yellow. Hell, under his influence, everything was. The universe was complying with his own desires, as it should.

"You know, you might be the very first piece of art that would actually be worth its value?" Jack said, smirking at him, genuinely appreciating the beauty of him. "Rare resources. One of a kind. Almost impossible to replicate. You might be worth quite a bit more than the winnings of a finger gun contest..."

Rhys wasn't sure if he wanted to be worth more than a finger gun contest. It might get him out of this situation only to land him in an even worse one. Like being auctioned off to the highest bidder on the black market. If Jack succeeded in taking away his legal status as a human, he could be cooked up and eaten for all the galactic legal system cared.

"But, I did promise, didn't I?" Jack said with an overdramatic sigh. "And a Hero keeps his promises! Now, let's see which departments closest to winning you, shall we?" Jack looked back at his screens. "Damn. Accounting just upped their game. Who's that little guy in the glasses? He is really into this. Is he your boyfriend?"

Rhys shook his head and tried to focus on the images on the screen. The light from his tattoos dimming as he calmed back down. Rhys blinked rapidly at the screens, trying to focus on the contest that would determine his fate.

"Oh, that? That's Vaughn. We've been friends since high school."

Rhys watched as Vaughn pulled an invisible shotgun from his pant leg and caught one of the RnD team with double barrel blast to the nuts. He couldn't help a little grin. He had been trying not to get his hopes up, but maybe, just maybe, Vaughn and accounting could win this. After all, they did have superior numbers. At least then he would have someone in his corner. Maybe he might even enjoy his new status, at least pets don't have to compete for promotion or get stabbed in the back.

Through the hole in his shirt, you could see the lines on Rhys' chest shift. A few of them curled into a tight maze-like pattern right over his heart, just to the left of his sternum.

Then out of nowhere, Vasquez and a pack of other upper management goons ambushed the main force of the accounting team. Bodies were falling left and right, but Vaughn managed to make a break for it and dove for cover behind a desk.

Rhys' tattoos sparked like a flame lighting up a puddle of gasoline.

"Fucking asshole…" he growled through gritted teeth. Then realising Jack didn't have context and might think he was talking to him, he added, "that's Vasquez. I'm sure he's only in this so he can make me lick his boots every morning. At least I hope it's his boots…"

Jack frowned. "Vasquez, huh...you know, I feel like I should know who that is. Shit, it's really bugging me, I tend to see Department Heads often and yet...hmm… Ah well, it doesn't matter, obviously. Dude has a pretty punchable looking face, I'll give him that. Also, he's good at this whole... finger bang war thing you idiots love so much. Looks like your little friend is about to get his ass handed to him."

Then again, the little guy did seem to be holding up well on his own. The guy with the punchable face and the obvious hair implants had just lost three people trying to flush the guy out.

Jack looked back at the prize and saw the lines on his skin shift, bright and brilliant and almost... Expressive?

"Hey," Jack said, his focus completely on Reece again, looking him up and down and thinking literally nothing of saying, "How far down do those lines go? Does it cover your whole damn body? Take off your clothes, I bet that stuff looks crazy around your junk."

Rhys stared at Jack, open mouthed.

"You-you're serious?"

"As a heart attack, babe. Now, hurry up before I make you have one."

Rhys knew about Jack's mood swings and unpredictable whims, it was the third thing anyone learned about him after his capacity for violence and the self-imposed moniker 'Handsome'. So, he really shouldn't have been shocked that he was being ordered to strip for shits and giggles.

Rhys probably had some token protest to offer, but before he could react, he caught the look in Jack's eye that distracted him just long enough for the moment of opportunity to pass.

Somehow, knowing that this was just to indulge a senseless moment of curiosity made it easier to comply. Rhys' clothes were falling off anyway, and he also wanted to know what the artefact had done to the rest of him.

"O-okay..."

Rhys gritted his teeth together and pulled what was left of his shirt over his head. The lights on his chest wandered back into their original position. Returning to soft illumination as Rhys detached his thoughts from his body enough to ignore the attentive eyes of the most powerful man in the galaxy on him.

Rhys paused halfway through undoing his belt, expecting Jack to rescind his order once he realised he was going to do it, but no order came.

Rhys shoved his pants and boxers off in one go, not wanting to drag it out and make it more painful, like ripping off a band-aid. He did hesitate before looking, suddenly not sure if he wanted to know, but curiosity won out, and he looked.

Two dozen lines traced up his left leg in a pattern that looked a lot like the connection ports on the bottom of an old-fashioned computer motherboard. The lines on his leg joined up with the ones running down his side, with several little floating dots of light offsetting the otherwise boxy and rectangular pattern.

-And, sure enough, the tattoos had seen no reason to leave the area between his legs untouched. Thankfully, it was only on the shaft because If Rhys had to live with glowing yellow balls, he might have begged Jack to shoot him.

The lines were thinner and still, confusingly, relegated to the left side as the default. Rhys' hand moved on its own before he stopped it. He knew already that the tattoos felt like his regular skin, no need to remind himself of that while Jack was watching.

"Well, I guess it could be worse..." Rhys murmured, mostly to himself.

Jack stared, obvious and unashamed in his interest. "Oh man, you are suuuuuch a mutant! Ha!" Jack laughed, leaning in close to Reece as he stared down at it. It was, again, rather breathtaking, though Jack couldn't treat the sight of another dude's dong with the same sort of sincere appreciation that he did the rest of Reece. Was it Reece? Maybe it was Riece. Like Rice, but fancy. Was his name Rice? Jack couldn't remember. Ah well, it didn't matter.

Still, something was...wrong. Something was weird about this scenario. Jack took a step back and looked hard at Rice, trying to figure out what it was. A naked employee in his penthouse, mutated as fuck, half terrified and probably going to die soon...nothing about any of that was out of the ordinary. So, what was...

"Hey, Rice, buddy," Jack said, shifting his hips and giving Rice a look of plain disbelief, "Does your dick not work now or something? Because, honestly, I know the effect I have on you little Jack-worshipping dweebs. I am before you in all my glory, alone, staring at your naked body. You should be hard as a fucking ROCK right now."

Rhys stared with wide mismatched eyes. His years of Hyperion training urged him to jump when Jack told him to, but there were limits to what he could physically do.

Jack sat back down, threw an arm over his employee's shoulder, grabbed a fistful of Rice's hair. Jack glanced down again, but still nothing. He was physically touching the guy, and not even getting a nod of hello from the little winky face? What the actual fuck!?

Rhys winced at the pain from his scalp and was momentarily distracted as he rolled the conversation back in his head and realised, rather belatedly, that Jack had referred to him as Rice, like the food.

"So, what, radiation making you impotent?" Jack asked, almost... Offended, "Because that should be the ONLY reason you are not just aching for me to touch you right now."

"H-hey... Look it's been kind of a stressful day for me, okay? I'm kind of still hoping I'm going to wake up soon."

Fear started to crawl its way into the back of Rhys' brain, but it was mixed with something else, something that made his racing pulse feel pleasant instead of uncomfortable.

"I-I-mean it has to be a dream, right? That your here, talking to me…"

Rhys gulped. He had been doing a pretty good job of holding back his excitement, what with the alien tattoos et al. -But now he had been prompted, it was all bubbling back to the surface.

The tattoos started to shift again, the collar around his neck was back, and his left arm and leg were laced with glowing bands of gold. One on top of the other, like gilded bracelets.

He met Jack's eyes, even though it scared the shit out of him to do so. Sure enough, he felt a rush of heat flow through him and end right between his legs.

Rhys could hardly believe he was trying to get a boner on command, and even more implausible, it was totally working.

"You're Handsome fucking Jack…. And I'm just nobody. But I'm sitting here with you, and you're terrifying, and this is so much better than I could have ever…"

Rhys was blushing so hard he worried he might melt his cybernetics. Saying this all out loud was making him so hard, and he wanted to obey. Not just to save his own skin but because he wanted Jack to approve.

He glanced down and cracked a disjointed smile.

"Ha… I guess there wasn't any radiation."

His markings flashed in the dark room, bathing the whole sofa in a yellow glow.

"Heh," Jack scoffed, he'd enjoyed watching the kid start to fluster, his skin redden, his mutations glow, and his little friend start to dance to life. That was more like it. Handsome Jack knew he was irresistible. Well, okay, maybe he knew he was irresistible so long as he was wearing the mask... but the mask was basically just what he used to look like anyway. So, it wasn't cheating. It was just... fixing what that Siren bitch had broken, really.

The warmth of his employee's skin and the trembling against Jack's fingers was nice. Jack's girlfriend had been busy being a Sheriff down on Pandora for a while now... Fuck, what was the harm? They were alone. If the kid tried to blab his mouth off to anyone about it, Jack could easily have him and anyone he told killed. Why not indulge?

Eh, fuck it. Literally. Ha.

Jack leant back against the couch, legs held apart. "Alright, alright, you've convinced me. You're good at this, kitten, quite the little seductor, could have made it far in the sales world. Could still, honestly, if, for any reason, I decided not to get you declared non-human." Jack said, dropping that little hope nugget to better motivate his new pet.

"Well, today's your lucky day kiddo! I'm feeling fucking horny right now, and literally every single other person on what is the equivalent of our whole world is at a finger-gun war. So, Rice, come on then," Jack grinned up at him, gesturing plainly to his zippered jeans, "You do know what to do, right buddy? Or do you need old Handsome Jack to talk you through this?"

How was it that every time Jack spoke Rhys was even more shocked? Wanting to see him being humiliated he could believe. Ditto for wanting to prove Rhys was sexually attracted to him to stroke his own ego. -but he didn't expect...

"R-really?" He stammered. Then he remembered never to second guess Jack and buried his shock. He lifted his feet off the floor and kneeled on his side of the sofa. His shoulders hunched and his posture obedient. "I-I think I can. J-just tell me if you want me to do something different..."

He swallowed and very carefully crawled towards his Boss, lowering himself onto his stomach, so he was level with the front of Jack's pants. He hoped it wasn't stupid obvious he was following a fantasy he had stored in the back of his mind.

"My name, um… it's Rhys, by the way, b-but you can call me whatever you like…"

His fingers were shaking as he reached out to touch Jack's hips. He took a deep breath, if he was going to get through this, he needed to stop thinking. Just do what he wanted and hope Jack would correct him if he fucked it up.

His fingers curled around the bottom of Jack's yellow sweater and pushed it up as far as the leather vest would allow. Then he started undoing Jack's belt, opening the clasp, then the button, and finally the zipper.

He was finding it hard to breathe as he shifted Jack's pants down only to discover his boss didn't seem to bother wearing anything underneath them. Rhys took a breath in. No thinking now, just feeling.

An urge overtook Rhys, and he leant down and kissed the top of Jack's hipbone, then nuzzled into his side. If he ever needed proof that his hero was still flesh and bone, for all his mythic reputation, this was it.

"Awwwww," Jack said, running his fingers through Rhys' (Rhys, yeah. Duh. Jack was pretty sure he had been saying that the entire time) hair, the sweet little idiots face rubbing itself into his side. Looked like someone was into this in a big way. Not that Jack was surprised. Most of the people in his employ were hopeless little followers. Oh sure, most of them thought they had what it took to be the Big Boss, but when no one was watching, and it was just them and Jack, they were as pliable and willing to please as an older puppy at their master's feet.

Not, mind you, that Jack tended to find this out through sex. He mostly discovered it when he started asking the tough questions like 'Who were you working with?' 'Who did they talk to?' and 'How ready are you to die?'. Then these tough little 'bosses' that Jack employed were all suddenly weeping, begging, pointing children, begging to be allowed to suckle at their mother's teat once more... Their mother being Jack in this case...

Okay, that metaphor had gotten weird. Jack let it go.

"Man, someone's eager to be a good little slut," Jack teased lightly, before taking his dick in his hand grasping Rhys' hair and pulling the guy back to the centre of his crotch. Jack lightly wacked the tip of it against his employees' cheek and added, "but the action is over here, sweetheart. Come on, it's easy. Once we're done with this, you can use your newly acquired skills on that weird little accountant. Or maybe the big dude with the bad hairpiece."

Jack positioned his dick to the front of Rhys' lips, gently rubbing the tip over them, feeling the little points where they were soft the and where they were dry and chaffed, enjoying the changing texture. As he did this, his grip on Rhys' hair turned into an affectionate stroke from his cheekbone to his neck, and then back up again. The guy had wonderful bone structure. "Just listen to me, kitten. Take out that sweet little tongue of yours a get a good taste of the most powerful man in all of the galaxy."

Rhys shivered. if it were anyone else it would have just come off as arrogant, but when Jack said it, his heart did little summersaults. He held either side of Jack's hips as if it would help him stay grounded in place.

"Anything you want," He murmured.

Rhys parted his lips, and he ducked his head to start at the base. His anxiety threatened to distract him, but he let his instinct guide him away from it. All he was thinking about was Jack's distinctive voice calling him a slut. His slut.

Rhys maintained eye contact as he ran the flat of his tongue all the way up. He was probably hallucinating, but damn if he didn't love the taste. He repeated the motion, easily losing himself in the steady rhythm.

He replaced Jack's hand with his own, his energy rising with his eagerness to please. Without being prompted further, he took his boss' cock into his mouth, going too fast at first and almost choking himself with it.

His eyes watered but he recovered quickly. Rhys reminded himself to take his time, bobbing his head in a gradual motion and then working up into it. There was no room in his mind for anything but what he was doing. As soon as he was able, Rhys took all of it. The press on the back of his throat was a little painful, but Rhys didn't care in the least.

He stared up at Jack, his pupils were blown out, even in his robotic eye. His expression perfectly matching that of a loyal dog. It was a look that said, 'you are my whole world'.

'Heh. What a freak.' Jack thought.

Still, it was endearing, in its own little way. Jack would be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the worship, the idolization that came from his little crew of monkeys. Well of course he did! God himself wasn't above a little vanity, what with his 'heavenly gates' and a whole class of angel that was literally just meant to worship him; and what was Jack if not the better version of God? The kind of God that not only created shit but followed through on maintaining all the wonders and glories of creation? Were his employees not well fed, safe and taken care of from every possible threat besides himself and each other? Were they not all given equal and honest chances to rise from amongst the pack, to be the best, the strongest of the apes? Had God been half as kind, or half as true?

Handsome Jack in Godliness - 1

God in Godliness - 0

None of these thoughts were half meant, nor sarcastic. Just naked, true belief.

The buildup in his groyne was starting to get warm and teasing, and Jack was getting restless sitting. He lifted a leg and, gently, pushed the prize back with the bottom of his shoe. "Alright, alright, pumpkin, don't get me too excited now or we'll never make it to the good part."

Jack leant his elbows onto his knees, grinning wolfishly at the little puppy dog, who seemed... somewhat lost now. Like he needed direction. It was a reaction to how Jack 'made love' that he had seen before, an empty sort of blankness that comes over some of his lovers.

Jack had never really understood it. Still, he had seen it enough times to know that the kid needed some orders, or he'd fizzle out. "Alright, Rhysie. What I want you to do next is lie back on this nice, hard wood floor, take your dick in hand, shove those long, slender fingers up your ass, and show me how you do it when you're alone in your room, dreaming about me like the lonely little slut you've always been. Tell Ol' Handsome Jack how _badly_ you've always wanted me to touch you..."

"Y-yes Jack…"

Sober Rhys probably would have gawked at the graphic imagery, but the Rhys that was here right now obeyed without even thinking. He didn't even bother getting up really, he just rolled over and ended up on the floor.

It was cold, but his skin was so hot it felt surprisingly good. He stretched out his body languidly, even the simple movement felt good in his hypersensitive state.

He didn't want to take his eyes off Jack, fearing he might slip out of this strange little trance he was indulging in if he stopped thinking about his hero for even a moment. He opened his legs and slipped his hand between them. It almost hurt, he couldn't remember being this turned on before.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and a flying object hit him right in the stomach. Rhys winced and glanced down to see the plastic bottle of lube Jack had presumably thrown at him. Rhys might have wondered where he had gotten it from, but this was Handsome Jack, and he probably had a lot worse than lube bottles hidden around.

Rhys took it and stopped touching himself for just as long as it took to coat his right hand in the transparent liquid. The fingers on his robot arm were usually cold, but they were also just a little bit more dexterous, which was more than worth it.

Jack was looking at him like he expected something, and Rhys slowly remembered the last part of his orders. To say how much he wanted Jack to touch him.

Rhys tried to think up something, but no words seemed good enough, and he didn't exactly trust his ability to string a sentence together. He sunk his pointer and middle finger into himself, with a little more touching he might be able to loosen his tongue and make good on the request.

"J-Jaaack…"

The name came to his lips mixed with a moan. He added more fingers, his toes curling against the floor as he felt himself loosen up both physically and mentally.

"Jack, I-I can't even remember how many times I've imagined it was your cock inside me instead of my fingers…" The words spilled out of him, egged on by the pleasant pain as his robot fingers worked him open. They were stronger and rougher than human fingers, but that just made it better

Jack hadn't expected Rhys to use his robotic hand, but he decided that he liked it better that way. It reminded him of the Android on human porn he occasionally indulged in.

Leaving Rhys to it for a moment, Jack glanced around the room. Choosing a good place to fuck was always a very crucial step. Especially if he wanted to minimise the amount of effort required. The desk was an option, but he didn't feel much like standing. He could rut the obsessed fanboy up against the floor, he'd probably love that, but Jack was getting a bit too old to take it that hard on his knees.

Jack fixed on the sofa, mentally bending Rhys overall it's edges until he found one he liked best.

"Go bend over the arm of the sofa and start thanking your lucky stars, because your God is about to answer your prayers."

Rhys pulled his robotic fingers out. Normally he found it hard to stop once he got going, but as far as his glazed over mind was concerned, Jack's word was law.

Rhys didn't really remember moving into position for Jack, one moment he was on the floor and the next he was on the sofa, a large padded armrest supporting his stomach and the lube bottle clutched in one hand. Jack joined him and the sofa dipped under their combined weight as he kneeled behind Rhys.

The yellow lines shifted again, converging on Rhys' back. They made a little landing strip pattern over his spine, complete with arrows on his lower back. Really, it was a miracle the lines didn't also spell out the words 'insert cock here'.

Jack chuckled and shook his head. As if the kid wasn't already too easy to read. It was still kinda neat though, since the enhanced body language would make it impossible for Rhys to fake his reactions.

Jack rested a hand on Rhys' hip. For such a skinny guy, Rhys had a surprising amount of junk in the trunk. While woman would always be Jack's first love, he couldn't say no to a warm piece _o_ f ass when it was offered.

Jack brought his hand down hard, the slap echoing around the room. Rhys squawked, his whole body jerked, and he almost tumbled head first off the sofa. Without pausing to explain, Jack repeated the motion. Laying several hard spanks on both sides until there was a lovely round red mark about the size of his hand on both of Rhys' cheeks.

Strangely enough, Rhys' indignation faded the more it hurt, and keeping his mouth shut became easier. This was Handsome Jack after all and roughness was part of the deal. Rhys bit his bottom lip and lay still, waiting for more orders or for whatever was coming next.

Once he had finished admiring the marks, Jack reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Rhys' slicked-back locks. Jack took hold of the base of his cock with the other hand and lined himself up with Rhys' entrance.

Rhys dropped his shoulders and relaxed. The few times he'd experimented with anal in the past had taught him the dangers of tensing up at the wrong moment.

Rhys held his breath and waited, but Jack didn't move.

"Hmmmmm…. Hold on, something's missing here," Jack said, sitting back down on the sofa and releasing Rhys' hair.

Rhys twisted around, his markings flashed brightly in time with a wave of frustration. Rhys quelled it with a breath and looked over his shoulder at Jack, so his boss knew that he was listening.

Jack leant back against the opposite armrest, his cock still standing straight up through his open pants zipper.

Jack fixed Rhys with a shit-eating grin and said, "Rhysie, be a good boy and beg for daddy's cock."

Rhys blinked at his boss. He really hadn't been expecting that. Handsome Jack had a daddy kink? Or... Whatever you called it when the top was into it?

Rhys swallowed, wondering if he could really go through with it. The fact that, for all he knew, Jack was old enough to be his dad didn't help in the slightest.

Rhys took a deep breath. No, this was fine. He could be into this. One of the many things he loved about Jack was his commanding presence, and this was just playing off that.

Rhys stared at the far wall, unable to look Jack in the eyes while doing this.

"Ummm… p-please, give me your cock daddy?"

_-christ, this was weird this was so weird-_

"I've been a good boy daddy," Rhys added, swinging his hips in what he hoped was a seductive manner.

Jack had started chuckling after the first 'daddy' and by the time Rhys finished, he was holding back his laughter with both hands. Eventually, it became too much. He doubled over, clutching his chest and stomach.

"Hahaha! Oh, oh my freaking god, you... You actually did it! With a straight face and everything! Holy shit!"

Rhys' cheeks flushed crimson, and the markings on his skin stopped glowing. He waited for Jack to stop laughing, but by the sounds of things, it was going to take a while.

"Did you even hear yourself? Cuz _that_ was like amateur internet porn bad," Jack added in between two large gulps of air.

Eventually Jack calmed down, hardy laughter trailing into giggles then petering out.

"In all seriousness though, never do that again. It's really creepy, and it makes me feel old."

"Yes, Jack"

Rhys pulled himself back onto the sofa and slumped against the backrest. He had that strange feeling you get when you're walking down a dark stairwell and misjudged how many steps were left.

Jack raised his eyebrows at Rhys. Noting how Rhys' markings had returned to their passive placement.

"Awwww, come on, pumpkin, don't be like that. I was only kidding... -about the tricking you into calling me 'daddy' part, anyway, I'm serious about you never doing that again."

Jack stretched out further on the sofa taking up three-quarters of the space. He crossed one arm behind his head and patted his thigh. "Buuuut I guess, you did ask very nicely, so… hop on."

Rhys didn't move. At this point, he wouldn't put it past Jack to kick him to the ground as soon as he was in range.

Jack's legendarily short patience lasted about four minutes, and only that long because he'd been momentarily distracted watching his pet cower on the other side of the sofa.

"You've got pretty shitty timing if you're getting cold feet, Rhys. What happened to all that enthusiasm you had a second ago? Don't tell me you were lying about how much you were looking forward to fucking your hero?"

Jack didn't think Rhys had been pretending, but threats were often the best way to get the results you wanted, and he could make up whatever shit he needed to manipulate his latest conquest.

Rhys swallowed hard and shook his head.

"N-no! I… I'm just… I mean you, you're very intimidating. In a good way! –I mean..."

Jack rolled his eyes. He hated it when his subordinates started stammering like that.

"Mmmmm, it's a talent. Now, get over here before my boner goes away."

Rhys grit his teeth together, trying to focus on the feeling that had consumed him a short while ago. What did he have left to lose anyway? Jack had already told him that his life was effectively over once the finger gun war concluded. It really wasn't that much of a loss if Jack changed his mind halfway through and shot him in the head.

With that cheery thought, Rhys crawled into Jack's lap, mindful of where he was placing his hands and knees.

Jack found the lube bottle again and applied a handful to himself as Rhys got into position. Jack tossed the bottle away afterwards and crossed both arms behind his head. On reflection, this was definitely the better position, he had a perfect view, and he got to find out if this nobody middle manager could handle riding country style.

Rhys managed to get himself lined up again and was about halfway down before he realised he didn't really know what he was doing. Sure, he'd propped a dildo up between a couple pillows before, but did that really prepare him for riding Handsome freaking Jack?

In his moment of panic, Rhys accidently dropped his hips, taking the second half of Jack's cock much faster than intended and dropping heavily into his hero's lap. Rhys' gasp mixed with Jack groan of pleasure and discomfort.

"Shit, easy there, kiddo. I'm not old enough for a hip replacement yet."

"Sorry…" Rhys stammered, inadvertently tightening around Jack as anxiety set in again. The dictator hissed through his teeth, any tighter and it would have been painful.

"Yeah, no it's fine. Just… fucking move," Jack muttered. Bucking his hips up against Rhys by way of encouragement.

Rhys nodded and obeyed as best he could, using the bounce of the springs in the sofa to set his Rhythm.

As far as Rhys could tell, he was doing alright now he had gotten going. It felt different than the soft silicon of his toys, hotter and- **holy shit he actually had Handsome Jack's dick inside him, how was this even happening?!**

Without really meaning to, Rhys started going faster, spurred on by a fresh wave of enthusiasm.

Jack was hardly going to complain. Rhys made one hell of a pretty sight, especially in the moment right before he dropped his hips.

The yellow markings had gotten back into it as well, gathering into a series of concentric circles on his belly and chest. It almost reminded Jack of how a siren's tattoos curled up over their bust-line. What with all the glowing, you could have mistaken Rhys for a siren if you didn't know better, but Jack did know better.

"Not bad, babe... You done this before?" Jack asked.

Rhys blushed and his tattoos flashed. "N-not exactly," He mumbled.

"Creative masturbator then? Heh… that works too. Were you thinking of me while you did it?"

Rhys let out a long breath, but there wasn't really any point in being shy anymore. He'd already admitted to fingering himself when obsessing over Jack's image.

"Of course."

Rhys was finding it hard to look directly at Jack without freaking out. He needed to have his wits together to keep the pace, but he couldn't just ignore Handsome Jack. Both because he didn't want to and because it might prove lethal… Maybe there was another way to engage him?

"J-ack? Could you… um… could you keep talking? I really like the sound of your voice." Rhys asked.

"Haha- what?" Jack replied, both eyebrows arching up. Jack knew he had a sexy voice, but he also had a sexy everything else, and being told to talk **more** in bed was a new one.

"Tell you what kid, I'll talk if you start making some noise of your own" Jack said, right before he thrust his hips up, forcing a gasp past Rhys' lips.

Rhys swallowed and nodded. He hadn't been trying to hold his noises back, but he had gotten caught up in what he was doing. He dropped his shoulders and moaned, translating the growing tightness in his abdomen into the sound.

Jack grinned and moved his hands to rest on Rhys' upper thighs.

"There you go. I can only imagine how lucky you feel right now. Hell, you probably don't regret that boneheaded mistake you made as much now, even if it still means your going to be a pet for the rest of your life." Jack said.

Rhys swallowed, he wouldn't have minded so much if he was going to be Jack's pet.

"I'll make sure your new owner gets proper instruction on how to care for you," Jack continued. "I'll tell them **all** about how much you like a big, hard, cock up your ass."

Jack gave Rhys' upper thighs a firm squeeze. The more he talked about it, the more he liked the idea of tossing this skinny kid to the wolves after he was finished with him. Kind of like how the alpha male gets the first bite of the kill.

"Maybe you'll get lucky, and the executive branch will win. I know plenty of guys there who'd jump at the chance to have a sweet little thing like you kneeling at their feet. Including whatever his name is, the guy you hate. Antagonism and sexual tension are basically the same things anyway."

Jack laughed and dropped a hand off the side of the sofa, grabbing the spare remote control he stashed there. "Speaking of, I wonder how the idiots are fairing?"

He pressed a button, and the screens across from them lit up. Almost all of Helios' permanent staff were gathered in the graveyard aka. The lunchroom, waiting for the final few to fall. Jack scanned the screens looking for the survivors.

"Ohh, Good timing, we're down to the final two! And look, one of them is that little geek friend of yours. Shit, if he wins this, you're going to owe him big time, babe. Good thing we practised your blow job skills."

Rhys looked up, stopping mid-bounce as he spotted Vaughn taking cover behind a potted plant. Across from him, duel wielding two pistol fingers, was a man in a pinstripe suit who sported a shock of blond hair standing straight up at two horn-like points. It took a second for Rhys to recognise him, but when it hit, it hit like a tonne of bricks. It was Mr Blake, the vice president of Hyperion.

"If I were you, I'd really be hoping for your friend right now. You don't even want to know the fucked-up shit Blake is into," Jack said.

Jack's attention flicked back to Rhys. Apparently, the TV was to much of a distraction for his tiny brain to handle. Looks like he would have to put in some effort if he wanted to finish this.

Jack sat up and shoved Rhys down onto the sofa, earning a confused yelp from the younger man. Jack pinned both of Rhys' arms above his head, shifting into a brutal pace.

"Let's see who finishes first, them or us," Jack suggested.

Rhys' mismatched eyes, (just like his own, probably a shameless attempt to replicate all the tiny details that made Handsome Jack the sexiest man alive) fixed on him and Rhys started to squirm underneath him.

The yellow markings were going crazy, flashing almost in time with each thrust of Jack's hips. It probably meant he was about to cum, which worked just fine for Jack, since he was getting to the part where he was holding his own finish back.

Rhys' back arched up off the sofa and two blinding flashes of yellow light exploded from his shoulders. But instead of streaking outwards, the light fed back in on itself and formed into a pair of intangible feathery wings. Rhys moaned, and his cock twitched, leaving a sticky white mess all over his lower tummy.

Jack froze, his dick still fully buried inside Rhys. Rhys tightened around him, and his shock was momentarily displaced by orgasm. He swore and leant into Rhys, but didn't take his eyes off those shimmering yellow wings.

The second Jack was finished he pulled out. Rhys groaned and fell back against the sofa. His wings vanishing before he'd even been aware of their presence.

Rhys wanted to roll over and close his eyes, but he also needed to know if the finger gun war was over. He pushed himself up and glanced around. He couldn't see Jack anywhere, Rhys had heard of 'fuck um and leave um', but this was ridiculous.

He sighed and scanned the screens, his heart sinking down into his stomach when he noticed Vaughn laid out on the neutral collared carpet. Blake was standing over him holding an imaginary SMG in both hands.

Back in the lunchroom all the executives were high-fiving one another, including Vasquez. Rhys could just tell from the look on his face that Vasquez was already planning all the humiliating things he could force his one-time rival to do.

Today had somehow managed to be both the best and the worst day of Rhys' life.

Rhys heard footsteps to his right and he turned to see Handsome Jack. His pants were zipped up, and he was holding a pistol pointed directly at Rhys' face. Rhys blinked up at Jack, too confused to even be properly scared.

"J-Jack?"

"Shut up," Jack snapped. "We're officially done playing Rhys. Get up, now."

Rhys did at he was told, forcing himself up onto his sore legs and wincing as Jack's cum dripped down the inside of his thigh. Rhys wondered if he had done something wrong, or if this was just what Jack did after having sex with someone.

Jack put a hand into his pocket and pulled out a metal object. It looked like a dog collar but much larger and covered with a bright strip of purple lights. Jack dropped it to the floor and kicked it in Rhys' direction.

"Put it on."

Rhys stared at Jack. This must have something to do with taking away his human status and making him a pet, but why force it on him at gunpoint?

Deciding it was better not to ask these questions when Jack had his finger on the trigger, Rhys kneeled and picked up the collar. He brought it to his neck, and the invisible mechanism at the back clicked as the lock engaged.

The lights on the side of the collar went crazy. The sensation of being plunged into a frozen lake washed over Rhys. The yellow markings on his skin stopped dead and went out like a snuffed candle.

"Good, it works. Thank fuck for that!" Jack let out a long sigh and lowered his gun. "Sit down, pumpkin, I'll deal with you later."

Rhys nodded and scrambled back onto the sofa. His human fingers stayed pressed against the collar around his neck. It was doing something to him, he could feel it, but he couldn't figure out what it was. Well, besides making his tattoos behave like normal tattoos.

Jack stepped up to the monitor bank. Everyone was back in the lunchroom now, awaiting the final word from their CEO/god/master of ceremonies. Jack holstered his pistol and pulled a microphone out from behind one of the monitors.

"Who won?" He asked.

"Blake…" Rhys replied.

Jack nodded and lifted the mic to his lips.

"I see we have a winner. Big congratulations to my right-hand man, Blake, and the rest of the executives. You really showed your subordinates how we do things here at Hyperion."

An answering cheer rose from the men and woman dressed in the most expensive suits. Rhys searched the crowd for Vaughn and found him standing with Yevette. He looked devastated. Rhys wished he could tell Vaughn how much he appreciated the effort. It must have taken everything Vaughn had to stick it out so long.

"Now about your prize…"

Jack turned meeting Rhys' eyes.

"Here's the thing; the dumbfuck who ruined the magic Eridian box ended up succumbing to radiation poisoning, Buuuuuuut the good news is, that I'm going to give Blake and the executives a huge pile of cash instead."

The executives cheered again. None but Vasquez apparently bothered by the swap, although the disappointment on his face was mild. Vaughn on the other hand, had his mouth hanging wide open in disbelief. While Yevette had both her hands clasped over her chest as if she had just been shot.

Jack put the mic back down and turned his back on the screens.

"Jack? I… I'm not dead? Why did you-"

Rhys was interrupted as Jack strode over and grabbed a fistful of his short brown hair.

"You know, you're probably the first male siren to ever exist," Jack said.

"S-siren?"

Jack grinned, wide and unnerving. "Yup! Turns out you're valuable after all. Incredibly valuable, in fact."

Rhys tried to pull away, but Jack's other hand closed around his arm and yanked him back.

"-We'll have to do more testing to figure out what exactly your powers are, then examine your compatibility with Eridium. I already have a catalyst, but I could always use another one."

Rhys had no idea what Jack was on about, but he doubted any of it was good for his health and wellbeing.

"Hey, hey, heeeeeeeeeey. Come on, babe. You should be ecstatic. You realise this means you belong to me now? Isn't that want you've always wanted?"

Rhys swallowed, the metal collar digging into this neck.

"Y-yes, Jack"

Jack grinned and leant down to press his lips against Rhys', enveloping him in a rough kiss.


End file.
